


Manual Drive

by dragonspell



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared really shouldn’t expect Jensen to be able to listen to him when he’s taunting Jensen like this, waving his hands around like twin red flags.  Jensen’s like a moth to the flame and he’s only got eyes for Jared’s clever, clever fingers.  He’s knows all the things that those fingers can do—is intimately aware one might say—and Jensen loves each and every one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manual Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://insmallpackages.livejournal.com/profile)[**insmallpackages**](http://insmallpackages.livejournal.com/) prompt #81 "Ficlet, J2, in which one of them obsesses about the other one's hands (any rating is fine, but I do love boy lovin')."

If Jared didn’t spend every waking moment shoving them under Jensen’s nose, then maybe Jensen would be able to control himself better. If Jared didn’t constantly wave them around, using his hands to emphasis every single thing that he said, maybe Jensen would actually be able to focus on what was coming out of Jared’s mouth instead of just thinking about all the wonderful things that Jensen wanted to do with those hands.

Jared really shouldn’t expect Jensen to be able to listen to him when he’s taunting Jensen like this, waving his hands around like twin red flags. Jensen’s like a moth to the flame and he’s only got eyes for Jared’s clever, clever fingers. He’s knows all the things that those fingers can do—is intimately aware one might say—and Jensen loves each and every one of them. It's not Jensen's fault that he's developed a bit of an obsession with Jared's hands. It's not.

The quickest thing that Jared can do to turn Jensen on like there’s no tomorrow is to wave his hands around. After all the time that he’s spent obsessing over Jared’s hands, Jensen operates on manual, here. Manual fucking drive because Jensen loves it when Jared gets his hands on Jensen. He can push Jensen anywhere he wants just as long as he doesn’t stop touching him because Jensen knows just how easily Jared can blow his mind with those hands. It’s an obsession born out of experience.

So, Jared’s only got himself to blame when, instead of answering Jared’s question about whether or not he wanted to go see a game next Sunday, Jensen plops himself down on Jared’s lap, straddling him in the recliner and grabbing a hold of one of Jared’s all too tempting hands while he tosses aside the remote for the TV. Jensen hadn’t even heard a word that Jared had said, would only know later on when Jared noted Jensen’s single-mindedness with deep amusement and asked the question again.

Right now, though, Jensen’s focused. He’s on. His dick is throbbing between his legs and he is _so_ on. Jared pauses in mid-sentence and stares at Jensen as Jensen stares down at his captured prize.

Jared’s got big hands. They can span the whole of Texas, Jensen thinks as he runs a finger up the middle of Jared’s palm, watching his whole hand twitch. He continues on up Jared’s middle finger and there’s no way that he can miss Jared’s sharp intake of breath—not with how it corresponds to another twitch of Jared’s hand. Jensen trails down the ring finger and starts to follow the lines of Jared’s palm, mapping them.

Jensen loves Jared’s hands. He loves how big they are, how comforting, how Jared. He loves that he can press his own palm flat against Jared’s and, for once, see a hand that’s a little bigger than his. It’s rare for Jensen to meet someone that makes him look small. He also loves that Jared knows just what to do with his fingers. Jensen knows just what to do with Jared’s fingers, too.

Jared’s hand is beginning to shake in Jensen’s grip and it distracts Jensen enough to make him glance up at the man that the hand that he’s studying is attached to. “You okay there, Jay?” Jensen asks. Jared doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even have a chance to. They both know that the question is entirely rhetorical as Jensen smirks and pops Jared’s middle finger into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it and starts to suck, working it just the same exact way that he’d work Jared’s dick and Jared’s starting to whine softly in his throat. It’s the kind of whine that would bring the dogs running if they weren’t both outside. Jensen grins wider and slides Jared’s finger in and out of his mouth, getting it wet.

When he’s done with that one and ready to move on to the next finger, Jared’s eagerly helping him, all but shoving another of his fingers into Jensen’s mouth. It’s his index finger and it curls around Jensen’s tongue, playing and giving back just as much as it gets. Jensen shifts, grinding his cock against Jared’s thigh as he sucks Jared’s finger in as deep as he can manage. Jared’s got long fingers but Jensen’s determined.

He fumbles for Jared’s other hand, catching it, his own fingers curling around Jared’s and Jared’s breath is coming in hard pants, slow and deliberate as he tries to contain himself.

This is a game that they’ve played before, after all. Jensen knows how much Jared loves it. He also knows just how much it’s costing Jared to hold still; Jared’s body is starting to tremble just like his hand because he wants to do nothing more than just grab some lube and fuck up into Jensen, make Jensen ride him, just like the position is suggesting. But that would ruin the game and they both know it. So he stays right where he is.

When Jensen drags Jared’s hand to his crotch, Jared’s the one that moans. His hips buck, lifting Jensen up a few inches as his fingers curl around the bulge of Jensen’s cock and dig in, making Jensen see stars. “Fuck…” Jared whispers, letting his head fall back against the chair. His hand continues to fondle Jensen and Jensen rocks forward into it, his eyes sliding closed as he sucks harder.

Jensen lets his own hands drift down to Jared’s chest, hands splaying over his shirt, feeling the solid muscle underneath. Jared’s breathing deep and slow and even—a little too even and it’s giving him away: He’s trying to hard to keep himself under control. Just the thought of it makes Jensen’s dick jump and he stares down at Jared’s carefully controlled face, at how he’s biting his lip, sucking his lower into his mouth and it makes Jensen’s breath catch in his throat. Jared’s gorgeous when he’s desperate.

Jared’s eyes flutter open when Jensen moves away, a quiet “Jen?” echoing in the room but Jensen just laughs.

“Give me a minute…” he says, standing up for the half a second it takes him to peel off his boxers. His dick springs upward, pointing at Jared, and Jensen kicks his underwear off, leaving them on the floor while he moves to straddle Jared again.

Jared’s watching him, his eyes dark with hunger. As soon as Jensen’s on top of him again, he grabs a hold of Jensen’s hips, holding him there, holding him captive. Like he’s afraid that Jensen’s going to leave.

With a small smile, Jensen peels Jared’s left hand off his hip, bringing it to his mouth again. Jared doesn’t have a thing to worry about: Like Hell is Jensen leaving. Not with Jared’s hands right here at Jensen’s disposal, waiting on his every whim. He nudges Jared’s other hand down to his dick and Jared takes the hint, wrapping it around Jensen and jerking him off, smooth and slow. Jensen moans around Jared’s finger, rocking his hips into Jared’s grip as he sucks harder, loving every second of this.

Jared’s panting underneath Jensen, his pleading whines sending shivers down Jensen’s spine. Jared wants permission; he's waiting for it. Jensen likes that. Jensen shudders hard and reaches down to yank down Jared’s sweats and his underwear, pulling his dick out and fisting it. Jared groans, tossing his head back as his own grip tightens on Jensen, squeezing. “Mmm…fuck,” Jensen whispers. He drops Jared’s hand to his shoulder, letting Jared’s fingertips skate across as his chest as he wiggles closer. He moves as close as he’s able, lining his dick up with Jared’s. Because he freaking loves this. “Here, Jay…” he rasps, pressing Jared’s dick into his own hand, sliding it against Jensen’s. “Yeah, here, take it…”

Jared moans again, doing as Jensen tells him to, and wrapping his big hand around the both of them. Jensen stares down at where they’re now joined by Jared’s grip, cock to cock, and he can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. And then Jared begins to move his hand, hard strokes that are short-circuiting Jensen’s brain. Jensen starts to thrust, pushing himself into Jared’s fist, moving himself against the silky smoothness that is Jared’s cock and he has to lean forward to brace himself against Jared’s shoulders to keep his balance but his eyes never leave Jared’s hand. He keeps watching his dick slide in and out, watching Jared’s big hand holding onto him.

Jared’s free hand skates around behind Jensen, gripping one side of his ass while Jared leans up and captures Jensen’s mouth in a kiss. It forces Jensen to look away from where he and Jared are joined but at this point it’s already too late: When Jensen closes his eyes, he can see it in perfect detail in his head. Jared’s tongue shoves between Jensen’s lips, licking inside, and Jared changes their center of gravity, rocking the chair down and tilting Jensen backward. Opening up his mouth for Jared, Jensen gives himself over, ceding control for a short, brief moment. He holds on tightly to Jared for balance, one arm locking behind Jared’s neck and the other gripping Jared’s shoulder with his elbow so that his hand can bury in Jared’s hair as Jared tongue chases his.

Jensen’s trying hard to suck in enough air through his nose but he just can’t do it. He needs more. His lungs feel like they’re about to burst and he breaks away with a gasp as Jared, undeterred, works his way down Jensen’s throat, his teeth nipping at Jensen’s skin. His hand is still wrapped tightly around Jensen’s dick, providing friction for Jensen, and Jensen’s thighs are starting to tremble.

Jared sits back with a sigh, falling against the back of the chair and rocking Jensen forward. Jensen lets him go, pushing himself upright to put a bit of distance between them so that he can look down again. So that he can see Jared’s hand again. It’s mesmerizing just how easily Jared’s grip spans them both.

Jensen knows that his orgasm is fast coming up. He can feel it. His entire body is tightening and his heart is racing at 90. He glances up to catch sight of Jared only to find Jared staring back at him, devouring him, studying him. Jensen’s breath hitches and he’s gone. His orgasm surges through him, pleasure skittering along his nerves as he feels himself pulse in Jared’s hand, making a mess on Jared’s body, and he’s biting his lip just to try and hold himself together. He jerks forward a few last times, riding out the sensation before he dropping himself boneless into Jared’s lap, feeling spent and worn-out.

Underneath him, Jared’s groaning random words like, “God,” and, “Jensen,” and “ _fuck_ ,” as his hands moves fast. Harder. Rougher. Jensen spasms, his body curling in on itself from the feeling of Jared’s hand rubbing against his now oversensitized dick. He wants to brush Jared off, get him to stop, but, then again, he doesn’t. He’s riding a knife edge of pain and pleasure and he just lets Jared keep at it.

Keep at it until Jared’s sucking in a harsh breath and Jensen’s feeling his dick throb against him. Feeling Jared coming against him. “Mmm….” Jensen hums, his hands moving from where they’ve been braced against Jared’s shoulders, sliding down to feel his chest again, lightly stroking him. Jared shudders and then relaxes against the chair, breathing hard, with a big grin spreading across his face.

“That was awesome…” he slurs, pure Texas drawing out his words, making them twice as long as normal. Jensen hums his agreement as he keeps making lazy swirls in Jared’s shirt. Jared’s chest rises in a quick laugh. “You’re so fucking transparent, Jensen,” he says and, before Jensen can even think to ask him what he means by that, Jared’s shoving a finger past Jensen’s unresisting lips. “So fucking transparent…” Jensen sucks automatically even as he wonders how Jared’s enough with it to manage big words already. Jensen’s having trouble even thinking coherently, let alone attempting to speak, and Jared’s hands are not helping in that regard.

He can’t help it. He just really likes Jared’s hands.


End file.
